It Goes On
by The Straight Lesbian
Summary: Beyond the final curtain; what happens next? Set straight after the Deathly Hallows. All his life, Harry's had a plan. Now what?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Nothing! (runs away sobbing)**

"Harry, they need this. It'd mean so much to them." Hermione's eyes were sad but her tone was determined.

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his jet-black hair again. He looked out through the large hole still in the wall of the Great Hall. It was a stark reminder of the battle that had taken place only yesterday. To Harry, it seemed light years away, like it was from a different world.

It was a beautiful day, defying everything that had recently occurred, and the sunshine was pouring in through the hole and the still intact arched windows, dappling the stone floor and wooden benches where small groups of people were sitting, holding muffled conversations. The whole castle had an atmosphere of tense silence, everyone almost afraid to make a loud noise.

Harry was brought back to the conversation at hand when he felt a warm grip on his upper arm. Without looking at her he replied softly,

"Okay."

The grip on his arm gave momentary squeeze, before moving off. He could hear her footsteps moving off out of the hall.

He stayed where he was for a few moments before sighing and pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against.

Ignoring most of the eyes that followed him as usual, and nodding to a few people, he made his way out of the hall, out through the entrance hall littered with debris, and through the open double doors into the summer sunshine.

A bird flew across the grounds and drew his attention to the family he was looking for, underneath a willow tree beside the lake. Well actually, they were impossible to miss; a sea of flame red hair amidst the soft green grass.

They were all sitting quietly, talking amongst themselves. Hermione was in Ron's arms and she seemed to be blushing as he whispered something in her ear. Harry smiled. They were a symbol for everything that the end of the war entailed: hope, love, a future.

With this thought his eyes were irrevocably drawn to Ginny. _Ginny…_She was sitting cross-legged by Mrs. Weasley, who was absentmindedly stroking her hair while she talked to Mr. Weasley. Harry wished he was the one stroking her hair.

Now that the war was over, he…Ginny… Harry sighed. Now that he had a life to spend, he didn't want to waste it. No Voldemort, no death threats, no prophecies. Harry had to make his own life now. But he also had time. He would wait, at least till after the funeral.

The funeral. A service was being held tomorrow, on the grounds of Hogwarts, for all those who died in battle. That was what Hermione had been on to Harry about. She had wanted, well apparently everyone wanted, Harry to make a speech at the service.

After all, he was the Boy-Who-Lived-Then-Sort-Of-Died-But-Lived-Again, or whatever they were going to call him now. Harry snorted. All day reporters, families, and friends had been arriving at Hogsmeade and Hogwarts to attend the service and see for themselves that really, it really was over.

However, Harry Ron and Hermione had made it very clear that all interviews or anything of that sort had to be left until after the service. When Hermione gives you _the look _you don't disagree.

Harry made his way over to his family.

The shadows were getting longer when the families peaceful little bubble was disturbed. Harry was sitting with his back against the tree trunk, talking peacefully with Ron and Hermione. Sometime over the course of the evening, his hand had found Ginny's and his thumb was absentmindedly stroking the back of her hand.

His languid conversation was interrupted by a shadow that fell across the group.

"Harry," said a woman's voice. He looked up to be met by a familiar face.

"Mrs. Tonks!" He stood up hastily and went to give her a hug. She motioned for him to stay where he was, and nodded at the bundle in her arms. Her eyes were shadowed and her face lined, but something within her lit up at even a glance at the small bundle of blankets in her arms.

It gave a small cry and one of the blankets moved slightly to reveal a small arm and a clenched fist.

Harry's breath caught in his throat.

Andromeda Tonks held out the bundle to Harry, a tired smile gracing her lips. Harry was completely unaware of everyone's eyes resting on him as he reverently took the small moving bundle.

An ear-splitting smile broke out on his face as he saw, for the first time in the flesh, Teddy Lupin.

"Hello Teddy…" he said softly. Bright amber eyes peered up at him intelligently from a small chubby face, surrounded by vibrant turquoise hair. The small face scrunched up for a moment and suddenly his hair became jet-black, and his eyes became emerald green.

Harry chuckled and gave Teddy his finger to play with. The baby grasped onto it tightly and giggled delightedly. Harry's cheeks were hurting he was smiling so fiercely. He couldn't remember being this blissfully happy in a long, long time

Glancing up at Andromeda, who was smiling gently at them both, he said,

"I'll be there for him," he said determinedly, "I can't take care of him, but he won't want for anything."

She nodded, as if that was what she expected of him, and gently took back the bundle. Harry immediately felt the loss.

"I'll be staying at the Three Broomsticks. You're all welcome to visit us any time," she addressed the last part to the whole group. "We're leaving straight after the fu-funeral." Her voice broke over the word 'funeral'. Harry gave her a gentle hug, and stroked Teddy's head softly. The boy was staring resolutely at the Weasleys, who had all risen when Harry had, and was turning his hair bright red.

Harry laughed again, and watched with mixed emotions as Andromeda walked off. He became aware of an arm around his waist and smiled at Hermione, who grinned back at him.

"That's my godson." He said, to no one in particular and Hermione giggled. Ron smacked him upside the head, affectionately, and the group resumed conversation till long after the sun had disappeared behind the dark silhouette of the far-off mountains.

As he lay in bed that night, in the familiar dormitory of the Gryffindor Tower, Harry realized that him and Teddy had a lot in common. Both their parents were dead (Harry swallowed the lump in his throat). They both had godfathers left to take care of him. The difference was, Harry thought defiantly, that Teddy's godfather would be around and no one would have to hide, from anything.

Harry promised himself, then, that Teddy wouldn't have to suffer an ounce of what he did. He would make up for the deaths of Remus and Tonks with everything he did for him.

Harry then let the emotions of the day free, and eventually fell into a peaceful sleep with tear tracks drying on his cheeks, and the familiar sound of Ron and Neville's snores in his ears.

A/N: So…waddya think? Good? Bad? Awful? Is it painfully obvious that it's my first time? Ah! Forgive me, I was but a fanfic virgin! PLEASE review, I promise that there's more to come! This was kind of just setting the scene…but I'll stop rambling now. If you review, I'll give you a cyber hug!! =]


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: No dearie, it's not mine. Nor will it ever be. Are you happy now? **

You can always tell how your day is going to turn out by how you are woken up. Harry was woken by a pair of maroon boxers being thrown in his face. Make of that what you will.

Groggily he sat up, pushing off the duvet and rubbing the sleep from his heavy-lidded eyes.

"Whassgoinon?" he mumbled, yawning.

"Oh good, you're up." Hermione's brisk voice made Harry open his eyes in surprise.

She was kneeling at the end of Ron's bed, flinging clothes from within her open purse. An already-dressed Neville looked on bemusedly.

Fully awake, Harry asked,

"Hermione? W-what are you doing?" A pair of jeans flew by, just passing his head.

Without missing a beat, Hermione replied,

"I am _trying_," a sock landed in Harry's lap, "to find a respectable item a clothing for Ron!"

Just then Ron himself appeared in the bathroom door, hair dripping and a towel around his waist. He yelped when he saw Hermione before him.

"Bloody hell! Hermione! What're you doing in here?!"

Oblivious of Ron's furious blushing protests or hastened rearranging of towels, Hermione marched over to him and grabbed his hand, pulling him over to the bed.

Standing in front of the mortified ginger, her hands on her hips, Hermione was a terrifying sight to behold.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley," she began irately, "you have not one, not _one, _single item of wearable clothing!" She glared at him eyes flashing, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Well?!" she spat after a moments silence, "what are you going to do?!"

Neville and Harry caught each other's eye but quickly looked away, stifling laughter. Ron cowered away from the incensed brunette, looking frantically around for an escape route. Harry stoop up and began to make his way over to the bathroom himself. When he reached the door, he paused and said idly,

"Why don't you just borrow someone else's clothes? Or," he paused grinning, "considering you _are _a witch, just transform his clothes."

There was a moment's complete silence. You could've heard an Umbridge cough. Then, Hermione seemed to deflate. In a small voice she replied,

"Oh…of course"

Neville made a choking noise and turned away quickly so that his back was to Hermione. He was bent double with suppressed laughter. Ron wisely said nothing, but his lips were compressed into a thin line and his shoulders were shaking uncontrollably. A small snort escaped his lips, but he quickly covered it with a cough.

Thankfully, Hermione seemed to notice nothing.

Grinning, Harry stepped into the bathroom.

__________________________________

With everyone finally suitably dressed and ready, the four headed downstairs. They joined Dean, Seamus, Ginny and Luna at the top of the Grand Staircase, and the mood became decidedly somber as the group of friends made their way out of the huge double doors.

It was another gorgeous day that seemed almost indecently out of place amongst the sorrowful mood that lay over the castle.

A large babble of reporters was huddled at the base of the stone steps. They seemed to have been waiting for the group, for as soon as Harry stepped outside the door they made as if to converge on the teens.

However, before they could, Hermione put up he hand and stated firmly,

"No questions till tomorrow. Today, let us have privacy for the service. Have some _shred_ of common decency, however hard you may find that." She seemed to be glaring at one person in particular and as Harry followed her gaze, he met the eyes of none other than Rita Skeeter.

She was sucking thoughtfully on the end of an acid-green quick-quotes-quill and as Harry caught her gaze she raised one plucked eyebrow thoughtfully before winking languidly at him.

Harry repressed a shudder. God, how he despised that woman.

The group made their way through the quietly grumbling reporters, and walked quickly over the lake. The service was being held beside it, exactly where Dumbledore's had been.

If Harry had thought that the crowd for Dumbledore's funeral had been big, it was nothing compared to the crowd that stood milling around the lakeside now. It looked as if the entire wizarding population had come out to pay their respects to the war heroes.

Harry didn't look at anyone; he couldn't deal with them right now. Showing truly what good friends they were, Dean and Seamus formed a sort of barrier in front of Harry, Ron and Hermione behind him, and Ginny took his hand and gripped it tightly. Luna just stood vaguely off from the group, but she seemed to have an aura that made people give her a bit of space.

Head ducked, the friends made their way through the crowd, who parted respectfully, sensing their obvious wish to be left alone.

Eventually, they found the Weasleys, near the back of the group. Just a few yards beyond them was the line of altars, with the bodies laying peacefully on them. In the middle of the line was a small wooden podium, beside which the little wizard was standing, looking vaguely disinterested.

The Weasley family were all pale and drawn, none more so then Mrs. Weasley and George. Seamus and Dean murmured a few words to the family, before walking off to find their own respective families.

Ginny gently let go of Harry's hand to give her mother a hug, and it immediately felt empty. Ron made as if to bring Hermione with him as he walked over, but she pulled back gently. When he looked at her confused, she held up a finger and mouthed 'one minute'. He nodded and walked on.

Harry turned to her questioningly, but she wasn't looking at him. She was gazing at the Weasleys, a strange look upon her face. Harry guessed what was on her mind.

"Listen, after this," he gestured vaguely at the crowd, "is all over, we'll all head down there and pick them up. It'll be fine."

She nodded stiffly.

"I miss them," she whispered so quietly it was almost inaudible.

"I know."

She took in a shuddering breath and seemed to collect herself. Suddenly, her head whipped around to face Harry's.

"Did you write a speech?"

Harry's stomach dropped.

"Bollocks."

"Harry!" she whispered frantically, "what are you going to do?"

"I-I dunno, I guess I'll just have to wing it…" His stomach filled with butterflies bearing machetes.

Her eyes searched his sympathetically.

"You'll do fine…just…don't say something stupid!"

"Gee thanks. You know, that was almost helpful."

Hermione giggled slightly, before pulling him into a quick hug and whispering 'good luck'. He nodded uncertainly, and watched as she walked over to Ron, who took her into his arms at once.

Suddenly, the crowd seemed to react to some unknown signal, and all began to sit on the grass. Not enough chairs it seemed, some far-off part of Harry's brain noted. He followed suit, but found himself separated from everyone he knew.

A pregnant silence fell over the grounds as the small wizard began intoning the usual phrases. Harry barely listened. The words 'brave', and 'noble' and 'for a good cause' filtered through his brain, but in essence he knew that no one died for a good cause. There was no cause good enough to die for.

Some part of him knew this was selfish, to want to keep all those that he loved near him, but to be honest he didn't really care.

After what seemed an age, the wizened man announced that "Harry Potter will now make a speech' in a quavering voice.

Soft whispers flew across the crowd like a breeze, but died down the minute he shakily stood up. He made it over to the podium, somehow, and turned to face the crowd.

All eyes were on him.

Endless rows of people, all staring at him avidly.

As if he were the hero.

He spotted Ginny in the front row, and she gave him a watery smile. He saw Andromeda, holding Teddy close to her chest. He saw Hagrid, on Grawp's knee at the back of the crowd, tears pouring from his eyes already. He saw Rosmerta, Aberforth, Mr. Ollivander, Tom-the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, Mrs. Figg, Mundungus Fletcher…. everyone had come.

He realized everyone was still waiting for him to speak. He licked his dry lips and cleared his throat. It echoed across the grounds. Since when did his voice become magnified?

And all of a sudden, he wasn't nervous anymore. He wanted to show these people, to prove to them that _he_ was no hero. All these people lying behind him were the heroes. Without them, he was nothing. And so he began.

"I didn't know everyone that lies behind me today, and I don't know everyone that sits in front of me. But the ones I do know, mean the world to me," his voice broke, but he persevered despite the tears running down his face," I have had so many people taken from me, that I keep expecting the pain to lesson every time.

But it doesn't.

And sometimes I wish that it would, that I could stop feeling the pain each loss brings me. But then I remember what they died for.

These people, these heroes…died, to keep _us_ alive. They don't want us to waste away over what might have been! The pain we feel, it shows we are alive, that we can feel, that we can love.

It may have taken me a few years, but I know now that love, _love_- the most human of emotions, is the most important thing in the world. It's what these people died for.

And it's what we need to live for."

Harry glanced over at the little wizard, who handed him a roll of parchment.

"And so, if you would all please stand as I read the Roll of Honor." There was a low rumble as the crowd stood as one.

"Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Lupin," as he called each name the respective altar burst into bright white flames.

"Colin Creevey, F-Fred Weasley, " his voice broke again, and the low keening sounds of the crowd intensified. Harry continued reading the names of the departed until every altar was ablaze in white fire.

A broken, whispered 'thank you' and he was down from the podium, into the arms of Hermione, Ron, Ginny…the crowd was as one with their grief.

Eventually, a shaking Minerva McGonagall stood up at the podium and announced quietly that refreshments would be served in the Great Hall, and that all would be welcome.

The crowd thinned slowly, most of them supporting one another, as their grief grew too much to physically bear.

Harry helped a silently weeping Bill carry George, who was sobbing uncontrollably, up to the Gryffindor common room, along with the rest of the Weasley family, each in various throes of grief. They all stayed in each other's company, scared to be alone, till the early hours of the morning., where they each feel into emotionally exhausted, dreamless sleeps.

It was mainly a blur, that time of grief, to Harry. He remembered the heart-breaking sight of an inconsolable George, huddled in a ball on the floor; a sobbing Ron being comforted by a teary Hermione; usually immovable Mrs. Weasley weeping loudly in the arms of a hiccoughing Mr. Weasley…

But mainly, he just remembered the soft warm weight of Ginny in his arms, the scent of her silky hair, her arms tight around his neck as they both grieved for all they had lost.

However, no matter how bleak and black the world seemed that day, the sun rose the next morning and life went on.

**A/N: Phew! That was really hard to write. Did ye like it? I didn't really plan this chapter so, I'm sorry if it's a bit low standard. This was just an important chapter that needed to be done. But never fear! No more sadness hopefully, lotsa surprises in the next chappie!**

**Oh, and cyber hugs to:**

**nightwing27**

**Mithrondir**

**Rain Drops of Laughter**

**35words**

**ali**

**for your reviews! I will treasure you all always!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All I own is my cat, and even she doesn't love me**

**(Ginny's POV)**

Waking up in Harry's arms, Ginny thought, was something she could get used to.

She was curled up in his lap, her head on his shoulder and his arms tight around her. She half-heartedly tried to wriggle herself free, but gave it up as a lost cause.

She instead took the time to admire Harry's strong, muscular arms, his beautiful jaw line, his soft, sexy hair, his full pink lips, parted slightly in sleep…

Ginny had never been a giggling sort of girl, but if she had been, she would have. Harry was just so deliciously manly and _damn_, he was sexy. But Ginny wasn't completely shallow, and she loved Harry for more than just his looks.

_Loved_…Ginny tasted the word in her head. Yes, that was it exactly. She loved Harry. Most definitely.

Ginny had also never been an insecure sort of girl, but if she had have been, she might have worried that Harry didn't feel the same way. However, living in a family of men for sixteen or so years tends to give you a unique understanding of the male mind. Ginny knew that Harry cared for her.

Loved, maybe, but definitely cared.

Ginny was pulled out of her musings when Harry made the most adorable snore she had ever heard.

The way Harry was holding her rendered her unable to see the rest of the room, which caused her not to see the common room door open, and Professor McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt walk in.

So she was a bit surprised, to say the least, when she heard someone clear their throat loudly.

Startled, she struggled to release herself from Harry's grip, but he only held her tighter. Forced to resort to drastic measures, she swung her hand back and slapped him upside the head.

This brought about the desired result, if a bit in the extreme. While Harry did finally let go of Ginny, he did so by springing up from the sofa, wand at the ready, eyes blearily searching for the source of danger. Ginny, meanwhile, picked herself off the floor.

**(Harry's POV)**

Realizing there was no imminent danger, he looked around and noticed Ginny's ruffled demeanor and put two and two together. Sheepishly, he ducked his head and mumbled,

"Sorry…" But Ginny wasn't looking at him, and he followed her gaze to be met by the amused expressions of Minerva McGonagall, and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The old Transfiguration professor decided to break the awkward silence.

"I trust you slept well, Potter?" Harry blushed and heard a chortle from behind him. Glancing around, he noticed the rest of the Weasleys had woken up during the ruckus, plus Hermione.

Realizing that he was not, perhaps, in the mood to exchange pleasantries, Professor McGonagall went straight to the point.

"Harry, the Minister would like to have a word with you." Harry noted the use of his first name, and looked curiously at Kingsley. The man was regarding him quietly.

"Sure," Harry gestured to one of the unoccupied seats around the dead fireplace, and sat himself back on the sofa he and Ginny had occupied earlier, Ginny seating herself on the armrest. Kingsley leaned forward in the seat he had taken, Professor McGonagall remained standing.

"Firstly, I am to understand that everyone in this room is trustworthy?" Harry nodded.

"Of course."

"Well then, I'll just get straight to it. Harry, the wizarding community has raised a call for you to become Minister for Magic." Kingsley's deep calm tones echoed across the room long after he had spoken. Harry stared at him.

"What?!"

"It started right after the fall of the Dark Lord-

"-Voldemort" Harry interrupted. "He's dead now. Use his name."

Kingsley nodded apologetically.

"-After the fall of Voldemort. The support has risen tremendously since your speech yesterday."

"My…my speech?" Wordlessly, Kingsley passed him the day's Daily Prophet.

The main part of the front page was covered with a blown-up photo of him speaking at the podium. Tear tracks glistened on his cheeks as he mouthed passionately to the invisible audience.

The headline blared 'Savior Honors Those Slain'. Smaller subheadings graced the bottom of the page, 'For the Savior's full speech, see page 2', 'Harry Potter-Minister for Magic?, pages 3-7'…

Harry didn't bother reading more. He snorted, and passed the over to the waiting Weasleys.

"'The Savior?' Is that what they're calling me now? And here I was thinking they'd all run out of fun nicknames."

"Well, it could be worse mate," chuckled Ron, reading the headline over Hermione's shoulder," they could be calling you 'The Messiah'."

Everyone chuckled while Harry groaned theatrically.

"Don't say that in public or they might start!" Even Kingsley chuckled appreciatively, before becoming serious again.

"So, what do you think Harry?" Harry stared at him in disbelief.

"Wait, you actually think I want to be Minister for Magic?" Kingsley said nothing, only looked at him. Harry looked dumbfounded around the room, searching for support. Everyone was looking at him thoughtfully.

"No. No! Seriously, come on guys! Me, Minister for Magic? You've got to be joking! Could you imagine?" But suddenly he had a flashback; to Dumbledore telling him that those who didn't seek power were the often ones burdened with it, and surprised themselves when they wielded it well.

Going for another angle, he tried,

"Come on, I'm barely eighteen! I don't know anything about politics, I haven't even done my NEWTs!" Quietly, Kingsley replied,

"We could take you on an internship. Guide you along the way. There are many people who haven't done their NEWTs what with recent events. A home-course may be issued for those wishing to take the grade."

Floundering, Harry looked around the room again. Everyone was still looking at him with that same look of awe and thoughtfulness upon their faces. Realising that, for the moment, he wasn't going to win he replied wearily,

"Look, just let me sleep on it for a while, kay?" Kingsley nodded and stood up. He looked at Professor McGonagall, who had remained silent throughout the whole conversation. Now, she spoke to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"There's a group of reporters and photographers downstairs, waiting to question you three. It would be unwise to delay them any longer." She said curtly. "There will be small group of Aurors to keep the peace," she began speaking louder over their indignant protests.

"And I _suggest_, "she glared them into submission, "that you look respectable."

She seemed to look particularly at Harry as she said this, and he subconsciously ran his hand through his hair.

After the two adults left, Mrs. Weasley said cheerily,

"Well then! Lets get you three dressed, hm?"

__________________________________________________________

Three pairs of socks and a hairbrush later, the trio was walking down the long, winding staircase of the Gryffindor Tower. Harry had asked the rest of the Weasleys not to come, so that they could stay out of the harsh limelight of publicity as much as possible. He didn't want them hounded by reporters like he was; it wasn't something he'd bestow willingly upon anyone.

Mrs. Weasley had, miraculously, gotten them into some semblance of respectability.

He and Ron were wearing shirts, jeans and sneakers while Hermione was wearing a blouse, an A-line skirt and pumps. Harry was momentarily worried that he knew this.

The three were quiet as they descended. Just before they reached the Grand Staircase, Harry saw Ron take Hermione's hand out of the corner of his eye. With a pang, he wished Ginny were with him.

She had fought tooth and nail to accompany them but Harry had put his foot down. He'd rather face the reporters alone than have her hounded by the press too.

Bracing themselves, they stepped out onto the landing above the Entrance Hall.

There was a brief moment of silence followed by a torrent of noise. Harry gazed glumly over the scene. The Entrance Hall was packed full of reporters and photographers, all pressing against an invisible barrier being projected by a small group of aurors at the base of the stairs.

The reporters were frantically shouting questions at the trio amidst the blinding flashing of cameras, quills poised at the ready over scrolls of parchment, some already speeding along by themselves.

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione. They nodded at one another and descended into the chaos.

**A/N: I'm soooo sorry for not updating sooner, but I was doing my Junior Cert! For those non-Irish readers, I was doing BIG SCARY EXAMS! But they're almost done now…thank God!**

**Harry Potter-Minister for Magic? What are your ideas? Your opinions?**

**And what questions do you think the reporters should ask? I'll update ASAP if you review! =]**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Nope.**

**(GPOV)**

After watching Harry leave with Ron and Hermione to face the hordes of rabid reporters, I was left feeling decidedly bored. As entertaining as my inner monologue was, for now the Daily Prophet provided a somewhat more substantial means of amusement.

Spotting today's paper on the table in front of the sofa, I snatched it up and fell down into my favorite squishy armchair with a sigh. The common room was empty; the boys were playing Quidditch and mum was wandering about the castle with dad, reminiscing.

So I was left to my own devices for the meantime. Skipping past the articles about Harry becoming minister, yada yada yada, I flicked through the rest of the stories.

'_Celebrations begin worldwide'_, '_Malfoys to face trial by Wizengamot'_, and _'Internship for war NEWTs students'_ were my choices of articles. None of them particularly interested me at the moment, so I threw down the paper and stood up to go to my dorm.

As I was walking up the stairs, I heard it. Someone crying. Who was it? I thought everyone had gone off. Apparently not… It was coming from the boy's dormitories.

Quietly, I tiptoed up the boy's staircase, listening at each door till I found the source of the noise. Gingerly, I opened the wooden door just so I could peek through the small crack.

There, curled up in a ball on a rumpled bed, was George. His back was to me, his shoulders shaking. Anguished sobs reached my ears, strangely muffled.

I opened the door further and walked cautiously over to the bed.

"George?" I whispered tremulously, sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing my hand on his convulsing shoulder. He started, and turned to face me. Never had I seen such a pitiful sight before.

His eyes were red, bloodshot and swollen, his skin chalk white and his usually suave, carefully styled hair was a tangled mess. The hand he used to wipe his cheeks, though there were tears still falling from his eyes, had bloody teeth marks around the knuckles- he must have been trying to muffle his sobs with his fist.

We stared at each other for a while, neither of us moving. I reached out for his hand, and he grasped mine painfully tightly.

"I've never been this alone Gin," he whispered so quietly that I almost missed it. His breath hitched and his body convulsed again as he repressed a sob. "I can't….I…I don't know…..what….w-what to do…"

Reflexively, I took him in my arms and held him tight as he cried into my t-shirt. I had never before felt particularly maternal, but now I was suddenly fiercely protective of the man in my arms.

So I held him tight and whispered assurances and rocked him gently. Through his sobs, he whispered non-sensically,

"It hurts G-Gin, it hurts…it's a physical p-pain…a hole in m-my chest…it won't ev-ever g-go away!"

And it killed me, but I couldn't offer any solid condolences or reassurances. We just had to bear our grief, until it numbed with time.

I don't know how long we stayed that way, me holding my brother as he fell apart. Eventually, his sobs died down and he released my from his vice grip on my t-shirt.

Wiping his eyes on his own shirt, I looked at mine. There was a large wet patch on the front. Noticing this too, George laughed waveringly.

"Sorry Gin, I'll buy you a new one."

"Nah, it's okay. Didn't like this one much anyway." It had been my favorite. Smiling, George reached out and wiped my cheeks clean of the tears I hadn't realized were there.

"Since when do you wear make-up Gin?" He asked, laughing. I looked back at him confused, before comprehension dawned and I groaned, rubbing my eyes despairingly. My hands came back smeared with black. _The day I decide to wear mascara…_

We caught each other's eye and suddenly, we were giggling uncontrollably. The emotional breakdown had left us giddy, and soon we were gasping for breath.

Clutching my sides weakly, I snickered,

"God, you look a right sight George." He mock bowed and replied in a nasally voice,

"I doo try my besht for the _lay_deesh," and we fell against each other, giggling again.

Finally, I sat up with a groan.

"Everyone will be up soon, so we should probably go wash and change or something." George chuckled.

"And by everyone, you mean Harry, and by wash and change, you mean put on a top that reveals cleavage."

"George!" I exclaimed, hitting him half-heartedly. He laughed, fending me off.

"You know it's true Gin! You _loooove_ him, you want to _maaaarry_ him!" He sang in a high-pitched voice.

With what dignity I could muster I scrambled off the bed, walked over to the door, flipped him the bird and left. I could still hear his laughter as I walked to the girl's bathroom.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was almost three o'clock by the time Harry finally trudged into the common room, followed by Ron and Hermione. They looked absolutely exhausted.

Ron collapsed onto the sofa beside Percy and announced loudly,

" I'm _starving_! When's lunch?" Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes, as she sat slightly more gracefully down beside him.

"About two hours ago, Ron." Harry groaned, sitting down on the armrest of my armchair.

"Bollocks." Bill, Charlie, George and I laughed as mum admonished him, shocked.

"Harry! Honestly, mind your language!"

"Sorry Mrs. Weasley," he replied meekly, shooting a glare at Ron as he made slurping 'suck-up' noises. Hermione elbowed Ron, then ever-practically suggested,

"Why don't you just call Kreacher?"

"Oh yeah! Kreacher!" Harry exclaimed, and almost immediately a loud _crack_ resounded throughout the room.

"Master called Kreacher, sir?" croaked the old elf. Everyone except Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at him in shock. He was…well…_clean_. He was wearing a fresh pillowcase instead of his usual mangy toga, and his ear hair was as white as snow.

Harry, seemingly unperturbed by this turn of events, asked him to bring us some lunch. Bowing with an 'of course master Potter' he disappeared with a crack.

There was a stunned silence, broken only by Ron's guffaws.

"Honestly! The looks on your faces!" Even Hermione was giggling.

"Well he looks…different," said mum weakly.

"What the bloody hell happened to him?" George cried. Harry grinned.

"Long story."

"We're not going anywhere," George countered. Mum, recovering from her shock, said,

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway. So how was the press conference dear?"

Simultaneously Harry, Ron and even Hermione groaned.

"That good, huh?" I grinned.

"It was _awful_! They just kept asking questions! And the rumors that have formed, I swear, they're the most ridiculous things I've ever heard," moaned Hermione.

"Like what?" asked dad curiously.

"Well, erm…"Hermione blushed. Harry snickered.

"Like the one where we're apparently a _ménage a trios_." George, Bill and Charlie all burst out laughing while Hermione blushed furiously, mum and dad gaped and Percy snickered.

"Seriously?" I managed in between laughs. Harry nodded, grinning madly.

"And that's one of the slightly more sane ones." We were still giggling feebly when Kreacher arrived, wielding a large serving tray weighed down with food. Ron immediately jumped up from his slouched position on the sofa, crying

"Excellent!"

Half an hour later, when we were all sated and chatting comfortably, Harry spoke up.

"So Hermione, when do you want to go to Australia?" I was confused. What? Why would they go to Australia? Everyone seemed to share my confusion except for Ron and Hermione.

"Well, I was hoping to do so as soon as we all left the castle. Which is when?" she looked expectantly at mum.

"Well, I was planning on bringing us all to Hogsmeade tomorrow to do some shopping, and Harry could visit Teddy…" she trailed off, looking anxiously at Harry. He smiled widely at her.

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley," he replied sincerely, "that'd be great." She smiled back fondly and continued.

"So, I was planning that we leave the day after tomorrow. I know that there's a party on at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow evening. Would you like to go?"

The unanimous reply was a resounding 'Yes!'.

"But why do you want to go to Australia dear?" mum asked, bringing the conversation back to it's source.

"Oh, well, um, because..." Hermione looked distinctly flustered. Ron wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she took a deep breath.

"I placed a memory charm on my parents before we left, so that they wouldnt be targeted byt he Death Eaters. They currently think they are called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that they have no children," Hermione's voice broke on the word 'children' and her eyes filled with tears. Ron hugged her and glared at mum for causing her distress.

Mum looked a bit shocked at Hermione's admission, and a bit bemused at the reaction from Ron, and I snickered. Desperate to change the subject, dad asked,

"So what are your plans for next year, Hermione? Going to do the NEWTs home course?" This was, of course, the perfect question to cheer Hermione up. She sniffed, rubbing her eyes, and replied earnestly,

"I think so, though I'm not sure whether to do that or follow Harry and Ron and take an internship at the Ministry, though I don't think I'll be an auror, and I don't really care for politics…" she rambled on happily.

I turned to Harry and asked,

"You're taking an internship?" He nodded.

"Yeah, I'd been thinking about it and I met Kingsley on the way up after the press conference. I asked him if I'd be able to be an auror without my NEWTs, because honestly, I don't fancy doing a year of home study, and he said he didn't know, but he'd look into it. Ron too." He paused, looking pensive.

"I don't want to get in on my fame. If I have to take the NEWTs, I will." I nodded understandingly. Then, a realization hit me.

"So I won't get to see you much then," I said sadly," I'll be here doing my NEWTs."

This apparently hadn't occurred to Harry, who looked shocked for a moment, then resigned.

"Well, I can come up on Hogsmeade weekends…and I'll see you during the holidays…" he trailed off. " I'll write to you too."

I snorted, "Not if you're off gallivanting around Europe on some auror mission, saving lives and whatnot." Harry chuckled.

"They'll probably only have me making coffee and running errands, if they take me at all." I smiled and leaned my head against his torso. He played with my hair while we watched Hermione chatter on about NEWTs.

We stayed this way in companionable silence for a while, until suddenly a thought occurred to me.

"Where are you gonna live?" I exclaimed. The room went silent, before mum retorted,

"With us of course, won't you Harry dear?" Harry swallowed visibly -mum was giving him that _look_.

"Well, actually Mrs. Weasley, uh, I was thinking of living in Grimmauld Place, uhm, again," he trailed off lamely, looking for help from Ron and Hermione.

"Yeah mum, we stayed there for a while when we were gone, and Kreacher really cleaned it up well!" Ron added helpfully. Hermione nodded in agreement.

Mum was breathing deeply, glaring at each of them in turn.

"So…so that's your plan, is it? Your just going to go live, by yourselves, in a big, rotting house?" Ron looked affronted.

"We've been living _by ourselves _for nearly a whole year now mum, I think we can manage!" he faltered looking at Harry," Unless…you don't want us to live with you Harry?" Harry looked appalled.

"Of course I do Ron! Don't be retarded." Ron looked relieved.

"And I was planning on refurbishing it over the summer," Harry continued," I was hoping you'd help me with that, actually, Mrs. Weasley." He looked imploringly at mum. _Was that…was he doing the puppy eyes?_ Curse him and his adorable pout!

Mum was, of course, powerless against such a weapon. She deflated and smiled dotingly at him.

"Oh! Of course I will Harry dear! How lovely!" Ron made a disgusted noise, and muttered,

"It'll be covered in flowers by the time she's done with it." Mum seemed not to hear him, and began chatting about colours and furniture and curtains.

Harry just appeared to be relieved that he had overcome that particular obstacle.

"Slick," I muttered in his ear. He grinned and blew across his knuckles, rubbing them against his shirt. I shoved him playfully and he began tickling me pitilessly until I was screaming for mercy.

I fell asleep that night with a smile on face- the first time I had done so in a long time.

**A/N: I know, it's been ages, and I have no suitable excuse! As a token of my apology, I promise I will post the next chapter by tonight! **

**Lovin' the reviews, they're like a drug to me! Next up: Hogsmeade and a pub party! Whatever will happen between our two lovebirds when inebriated? Hmmm, I wonder…**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: If I did, Harry would be gay. 'Nuff said

**(HPOV)**

Waking up, Harry felt strangely light, as if a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

At the press conference yesterday, he had told the reporters everything…well, almost everything. The trio left out the Hallows and the more personal side of the story- such as Ron leaving.

Aside from their idiotic avoidance of Voldemort's name, and the ridiculous rumors, the press conference had consisted mainly of Harry talking, Ron and Hermione chipping in occasionally.

Harry, again, thought about the whole 'Minister of Magic' shenanigan. The reporters had enquired after his decision, but he waylaid them with a firm 'no comment'. He didn't want to be minister. No way.

But he wanted to help. If he were going to have this…credential…as a public figure, his opinion would be important. And he was _not_ going to idly stand by while the ministry was built upon more Umbridges.

That being said, he didn't want to become bogged down in politics.

With a huff, Harry sat up, pushing the duvet off his chest. He'd take them as they came, one at a time. Looking thoughtfully around the near empty dormitory, his eyes were drawn to the three unoccupied beds.

After the funeral, the previous occupants of the dorms had respectfully left the Weasleys to their privacy. Seamus, Neville, Dean, Lavender, Patil - everyone really -and their respective parents and grandparents were staying in Hogsmeade along with most of the people who had turned out for the funeral.

Luna was staying in the Ravenclaw dormitory along with some fellow Ravenclaws and her father.

The Hufflepuff tower was similarly occupied, and most of the staff had also remained in the castle.

Harry supposed that the Weasleys, Hermione and himself would have had more social contact if they had gone down to the Great Hall for mealtimes. However, having your own house-elf definitely had its perks. Harry grinned, remembering the family's shocked faces when he had called Kreacher the previous day.

Checking his watch on the nightstand, he groaned. They had to be in Hogsmeade in an hour, according to Mrs. Weasley. On his way over to the boy's bathroom, Harry ripped off Ron's duvet, announcing

"Morning sunshine!"

He ran to the bathroom before permanent damage could be done to him.

Hogsmeade was a whirlwind of activity and revelry. People were shouting and laughing and singing drunkenly- even though it was only midday.

The group had split up- Bill, Charlie and George had all gone to the now re-opened Zonko's, Percy and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to Gladrag's wizardwear, Hermione had dragged Ron to Dervish and Banges, and Harry and Ginny were ensconced in Honeydukes.

The pair was getting a lot of stares, but thankfully no one bothered them.

Deciding to be impulsively romantic, Harry bought Ginny a large bag of chocolate fudge snitches (which really flew around, until you bit into them) and they were currently sitting outside in the sunshine, testing their reflexes by letting one snitch go, then catching it just before it went out of arm's reach.

This scene reminded Harry of a certain Gryffindor, sitting under a tree with his best friends in the sunshine, and he smiled.

That was, until a man carrying a camera rounded the corner and spotted them, letting out a shout. All of a sudden, a horde of reporters and photographers materialized from the crowds.

A dumbfounded (and chocolate covered) Harry and Ginny were surrounded by the press within seconds.

"Harry! Who's the lucky girl?"

"Isn't she Ronald's sister?"

"Is she a part of your harem Harry?"

"How do Hermione and Ronald feel about this?"

"Do they know?"

"Tell me your name sweetheart!"

Harry recovered from his shock, and stood up angrily. The reporters immediately fell silent, quills poised, eyes expectant.

"My personal life," he seethed, " is none of your business, so if you would please _excuse_ us." He grabbed Ginny's hand and barged his way through the miffed press. A couple of camera flashes went off but the horde remained otherwise silent. They even backed off to let him pass, which Harry found slightly disconcerting but strode on none-the-less.

A small crowd had gathered to watch the ruckus, but quickly dispersed when Harry emerged angrily, imitating the reporters in backing off.

Finally reaching a somewhat secluded alley, Harry turned to Ginny.

"I'm so sorry Ginny, I thought they'd leave me alone after yester-" he began, but was cut off by her lips on his.

Harry was in heaven; all thoughts of reporters flew out of his mind. All he could think of was Ginny; her smell, the feel of her lips on his, the silkiness of her hair in his hands, her taste…

Eventually, she pulled away, smirking.

"You're so sexy when you're angry," she told him mischievously. She licked her lips and added," And you had chocolate on your lips. How could a girl resist?"

Eloquently, Harry replied, "Guh."

Ginny snickered and kissed him lightly again.

Finally regaining his vocal abilities, Harry said,

"I think I'm gonna have to break up with Ron and Hermione." Ginny grinned even wider.

"I'm sure they'll be crushed."

Their next snogging session was rudely interrupted by a loud cough. Detangling himself from Ginny, Harry glanced over his shoulder and flushed bright red when he saw the entire Weasley clan stationed at the alley entrance.

"Um…" was his brilliant explanation. Ginny, meanwhile, was much more composed.

Popping out from behind Harry, she straightened her shirt, patted her hair and said chirpily,

"Hi mum!" Mrs. Weasley merely raised an eyebrow.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go visit Teddy now, Harry?" Harry mumbled the affirmative, staring resolutely at the floor. He started when a loud guffaw sounded in his ear, followed by a heavy clap on the shoulder.

"It's about bloody time Harry!" laughed Bill.

"Yeah, we were beginning to wonder about you," grinned a snickering George, dodging Harry's fist.

Throwing an arm around him, Charlie reassured Harry,

"Don't worry, they've caught us doing worse." Even Percy was chuckling along with the other brothers. Ron, however, was resolutely looking everywhere but Harry, along with Mr. Weasley.

Hermione was giggling in a most un-Hermione-esque fashion with Ginny, who noticed his gaze and winked cheekily. Harry was still far too embarrassed to say or do anything.

So, the red-faced and red-haired group made their way to the Three Broomsticks, still jeering Harry mercilessly. Ron, getting over his awkwardness, punched him playfully on the arm, a bit harder than he normally would have, but Harry didn't complain.

The Three Broomsticks was relatively empty, most people being outside and enjoying the sunshine. Madam Rosmerta smiled at the large, laughing group, and motioned to the stairs beside the counter.

"They're in room three Harry dear. Are you all coming to the party tonight?"

"Thanks, and definitely," Harry grinned, and glanced at Ron, who was studiously looking anywhere but at Rosmerta and Hermione's watchful glare.

The group made its way up the well worn, but clean stairs, coming to a stop outside the faded door numbered 'three'.

Harry's soft knock was answered by a cheerful 'Come in Harry! And the rest of you too!"

Opening the door, they entered a small, but spacious room. Andromeda was in a rocking chair beside the large, open window, Teddy on her lap. At the sight of the family, he gave a loud squeal and raised him arms towards them.

Laughing, Harry ran in and picked him up, producing a sugared dummy from his jeans pocket, which he had purchased at Honeydukes along with the chocolate snitches.

He glanced at Andromeda, who nodded her approval, before giving it to the child, who giggled in delight.

The group all settled down, on the bed, on the floor, on the small sofa in front of the fireplace. Harry sat on the bed, Teddy in his lap, with Ginny on one side and Ron holding Hermione on the other.

The rest of the group conversed amongst themselves and with Andromeda, the ambiance of the room warm and friendly.

The next few hours were spent laughing at Teddy, doting over Teddy, and smiling at Teddy. It was impossible not to love the child, and Harry couldn't stop grinning at him.

After a while he noticed Ginny's gaze on him.

"What?" he asked, disconcerted.

"Nothing…it's just, you're so good with him. You'll make a great dad someday," she said softly, blushing slightly. Harry smiled at her, albeit a bit awkwardly, and squeezed her hand.

"Thanks." Their little moment of couple-ville was disturbed, as usual, by Ron.

"So Harry, what was with those reporters after you got pissy with them? They all seemed kinda freaked." Harry looked at his best friend, confused.

"Did they?" Hermione sighed, and admonished him.

"Really Harry, even you can't be that thick."

"_Au contraire_..." muttered Ron and Harry elbowed him in the ribs. Hermione rolled her eyes and spoke as if to a two year old.

"They're scared of you Harry." Harry snorted.

"Why? That's the most retarded thing I've-" he retorted, but was cut off by Hermione, as per usual.

"Well, I don't think they fully believe the whole 'love saved my life thing' you told them at the press conference, so they assume you are this extremely powerful wizard who's just being modest." Harry stared at her incredulously.

"But it's the truth!" Hermione sighed again.

" I _know_ Harry, but they want to believe something a bit more, y'know, spectacular?"

Harry huffed, at a loss. On one hand, he was extremely annoyed. On the other he was extremely amused. Finally, he laughed.

"So long as it keeps them outta my life, I'll stick with it." Hermione rolled her eyes fondly and turned her attention back to Ron, who began discussing various summer plans with her.

Harry, meanwhile, smiled at Ginny and whispered,

"This means our next date will be a bit more _private._" Ginny grinned and breathed back,

"Can't wait." Just as Harry's prospects for another quick snog were looking good, Teddy made his existence known again by a loud wail. He did _not_ enjoy being ignored.

So the small chubby boy once again monopolized Harry's attention, and Ginny cooed over the both of them fondly, teasing Harry and tickling Teddy.

_____________________________________________________

Turquoise seemed to be his favorite hair color, and amber his favorite eye color. However, he frequently changed it, scrunching up his chubby little face in concentration. He alternated between black and red for several minutes, before settling on red with black streaks, one eye vivid green, and the other hazel brown.

Glancing over at the source of amusement, Bill chuckled.

"That's what your children are going to look like Harry!" he grinned, and dodged the two pillows thrown at him.

At around eight o'clock, the group decided to head back downstairs for the party. Harry reluctantly gave Teddy back to Andromeda- the boy was fast asleep, his fist curled around Harry's little finger.

He gave Andromeda a quick hug, stroked Teddy's head one last time and turned to leave, his arm around Ginny's waist. They were the last ones out the door; the rest of the group had already gone downstairs.

The second they reached the pub, a wall of noise hit them on all sides. Before he could register who was there, Harry was being lifted up into the air by a pair of gigantic, hairy arms.

"'Arry! There yeh are! Bin lookin' for yeh everywhere!" Hagrid's hairy face began to swim in Harry's vision as the oxygen depravation started to affect his brain.

"Hagrid! Can't…breath!" he choked. Hagrid dropped him hurriedly, and he landed unsteadily, gasping for air.

"Good to see you too Hagrid," he managed to say between lungfuls of air. Ginny laughed and grabbed his hand.

"C'mon Harry, let's go get some drinks!" Hagrid raised an eyebrow at their joined hands, and Harry grinned, shrugging.

On their way to the bar, Neville, Dean, Luna, Seamus, Lavender, and Patil, who were all squeezed in around two tables, along with Ron and Hermione, hailed them.

As there was only room for one more person, Harry sat down next to Neville, opposite Luna who was chatting happily to Seamus and Dean, and pulled Ginny onto his lap. He ignored Ron's raised eyebrow and Hermione's wink.

Madam Rosmerta tottered over in her sparkly red heels, and they ordered their drinks- firewhiskeys for those over age, butterbeers for the others. This caused a certain amount of outrage in some, namely Ginny, but Harry promised to share his with her.

Several rounds later and the group were laughing uproariously at something they couldn't remember. Ron had long ago disappeared with a giggling Hermione into a dark corner of the pub. Neville was asleep under the table, and Patil and Dean were locked in a fierce embrace, much to the amusement of Lavender and Seamus.

Harry, inebriated as he was, looked around the pub, giggling weakly at what he saw. Mr. Weasley was gesticulating wildly with a group of similarly impassioned wizards, including a cross-eyed Hagrid, who bellowed his approval at something, taking a swig out of a tankard the size of a barrel.

Mrs. Weasley was giggling loudly along with, Harry blinked, a rather red-faced Minerva McGonagall –whose witches hat was tipped rakishly on the side of her head.

George was entwined with Angelina, _When did she get here…?_ , and Bill was likewise engaged with Fleur, of whom Harry was similarly confused about. Charlie was chatting up a tipsy Rosmerta, and Luna was waltzing by herself on the countertop.

Most strange of all, Professor Trelawny was flirting shamelessly with a similarly intoxicated Xenophilus Lovegood, the two of them sharing the same bottle of sherry.

There were many other people in the crowded pub, and the lighting was dim, so Harry didn't spot Pomona Sprout disappear under a table with Filius Flitwick, or see Percy snogging Ernie Macmillan like there was no tomorrow. Probably just as well; even a heavily inebriated mind can only take so much.

Still giggling, he tried to poke Ginny's shoulder (she was still sitting on his lap), but missed and poked her waist. She squealed girlishly and turned to face him.

Words slurred heavily by the two and a half empty firewhisky bottles on the table, he whispered into her ear,

"Wanna get outta here?" Ginny giggled and nodded, jumping off his lap onto her feet, and promptly fell over. The two of them burst out laughing; Harry falling off his chair too in the process.

The pair's actions remained unnoticed by Lavender and Seamus, who were currently giving Dean and Patil a run for their money while Neville snored loudly underneath the ruckus.

Eventually the pair made it outside, giggling and falling over. Harry realized sluggishly that he had a half empty firewhisky bottle in his hand, and took a long swig out of it. Ginny tried to grab it off him, but missed, lost her balance, and fell against Harry.

Harry tipped back against the wall behind him, and held the bottle above her head, tantalizingly.

"Now now Ginny-win, you're far too (hic) drunk to have anymore to…uh…d-drink!" he slurred languidly, taking a large gulp himself after his words of sobriety.

"Shut the fuck up Potter," she growled, swaying slightly as she followed the path of the bottle with her eyes.

"Make me ginger!" he laughed loudly at his own joke, missing Ginny's drunken growl of frustration. What he did not miss, however, was the forceful, wet kiss she gave him.

The bottle was forgotten as the pair fell against each other, only one need making itself known in their alcohol induced haze.

Sloppy hands struggled to undo buttons and buckles before giving up and returning to tangling in hair and digging in shoulder blades.

Harry began to kiss a sloppy trail down Ginny's neck, and he vaguely heard her sigh in contentment. Or so he thought. When she went slack, he was totally unprepared and she fell to the ground. Disorientated, he followed suit.

Glancing at her, he realized that she was unconscious. Finding this inexplicably funny, he began giggling again, and eventually fell asleep on the side of the cobbled street.

**A/N: Wanna know why I didn't update last night? The power went, just as I started writing the party scene. I didn't have this saved. Ice-cream indulgence and a healthy portion of ER and Gok Wan ensued.**

Love you guys , please understand my plight =]

**(reviewreviewreviewreviewreview)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Of course I'm JK Rowling, why else would I be writing a non-profit fanfic on the Internet? ……. Dontcha just love sarcasm?**

Surveying the scene before her, Rita Skeeter smirked. _Jackpot_, she thought smugly.

Beckoning to the bored, tubby reporter behind her she stepped over an unconscious wizard smartly and quietly but quickly made her way over to her prize.

The early morning light peeping over the mountains illuminated the quiet cobbled street outside the Three Broomsticks gently as the birds began chirping to one another.

The two unconscious figures sprawled on the ground outside the pub, which were the subjects of Rita's self-satisfied gaze, were not alone in their state of drunken recuperation. The street was littered with similarly slumped bodies and empty bottles rolling along the cobblestones.

However, these other bodies were not of any interest to Rita. No, her prize lay within the two young adults currently asleep at her feet.

One was tall and broad, the other smaller and slight. One had a shock of tangled black hair, the other a crow's nest of red. One was Harry Potter, boy hero and savior of the wizarding world while the other, if Rita wasn't very much mistaken, was Ginny Weasley.

All was silent in the village except for the birds as the photographer snapped some quick shots of the disheveled pair.

Coupled with some snaps from the couple's romp down the 'empty' alley, this story would provide a nice contrast to yesterday's paper. Rita snorted. The Prophet had covered no other story besides Harry dear's tragic yet heroic tale of courage and sacrifice, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

_This_ was the good stuff. Rita could see the headlines now; 'Boy Hero Hammered…Troubled Teen Savior Drowns Sorrows…' Throw in some rumors about the ginger, question Harry's state of mental well-being and you had yourself a story.

Rita grinned. It was she, of course, who had started the rumors about the trio. Couldn't go and let them have an easy life, now could we? And what with the false name on every article, Ms. Granger Busy-Body couldn't know it was her and go blab about her little illegal animagi secret.

The name was an annoyance but a necessity. As much as Rita would love everyone to know it was her wicked tongue dishing the dirt, some things were unavoidable. _Ah well, at least you still get that crisp paycheque…_

Considering the girl below her, Rita grinned nastily. So this was Harry's sweetheart? The world was either going to love the girl who 'saved the savior' or hate the tart out for his fame and money. And if Rita had anything to say about it…the girl would be crushed within a week.

She had a way of, let's say, _influencing_ people's opinions…rumors, little tidbits in conversation, an implication here and there…

Oh yes, Rita was going to be rich. With all the other reporters terrified of the black haired teen, she was free to cover all stories of indecency and scandal by herself…and make them up if there were none.

Finally finished taking photos of the couple, the cameraman nodded to her and she snapped out of her thoughts. There was a story to write.

______________________________________________

Harry clutched his head gingerly and groaned. _Never again…_

The rest of the previously inebriated were in similar states of disrepair, clutching either their heads or their coffee mugs, around a trestle table in the Great Hall.

The house elves had been kind enough so as to wake them up and escort them back to the castle, where a large fry and strong coffee awaited them.

The two best-known muggle cures for a hangover were accompanied by the promise of a potion from Madam Pomfrey, who had disappeared into her office five minutes ago amidst threats from several less bright-eyed members of the staff.

There was an atmosphere of comradery amongst the group as teachers, parents and students alike shared their pain and vague embarrassment.

"So does _anyone_ know what happened last night?" queried Hermione wearily, wincing as someone replaced their mug on the table with a soft '_clink_'.

"Shhhh!" Ginny hissed without lifting her head from its place on the table. Ron grimaced.

"I _think_," he said sarcastically," that we _might_ have gotten drunk. Just an idea now."

"A bit of wild speculation." added Harry, grinning.

"Sshhhh!!!!" Ginny hissed again, half-heartedly kicking him in the shins.

"I, for one, am glad I can't remember a bloody thing," said Charlie sincerely.

"I concur." croaked McGonagall, rubbing her temples delicately with her fingertips. Sprout, Flitwick and Mr. Weasley all nodded in agreement, then clutched their heads moaning as the movement made the world spin.

"Who knows _what_ we did," accorded Percy from the depths of his mug.

Luna then decided to join the conversation-she and the Gryffindor group had followed everyone eagerly to the castle at the mention of greasy food and strong caffeine.

"You mean you all don't remember anything?" she asked, seemingly surprised.

"And you _do_?" Seamus asked astounded. Luna regarded him thoughtfully.

"You know, I thought you'd be able to hold your drink better, being an Irishman and all." Seamus scowled.

"We don't get stuff _that_ strong at home. Firewhisky's worse than a good glass o' poiteen!" Everyone looked at each other in confusion, even more so when McGonagall nodded in concurrence and said," Firewhisky is like the lovechild of poiteen and absinthe, only with a slightly higher ratio of alcohol."

Before any questions could be asked, Luna continued dreamily," Well, you have a beautiful singing voice Seamus. You should start a band."

Seamus gaped.

"What? Ah no! I didn't sing, did I? Oh jaysus!" Luna smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"You did a lovely rendition of Whiskey in the Jar, followed by a rousing Danny Boy which had everyone crying, especially Hagrid, and then you serenaded me with Galway Girl, and you even thought to replace 'black hair' with 'blonde hair'. You're very sweet Seamus," she explained soothingly.

At this point everyone was laughing, as Seamus buried his head in his arms. Well, everyone was laughing until they realized how much that was a _bad idea_ and they stopped, wincing and groaning.

Oblivious to everyone's amusement, Luna turned to George.

"And you did the can-can on the bar counter, wearing a dress and high-heels. You make a very pretty girl," she smiled graciously. Before George could kill anyone, Madam Pomfrey burst through the doors with a large cauldron of gently smoking purple potion.

"Here you are! Premium hangover cure, fresh from the kitchen!" she chirped, suspiciously alert and clean looking.

Everyone scrambled for a goblet and chugged down the vile potion, gagging at the taste. Immediately, Harry's headache dissipated, along with the strange fuzzy feeling on his tongue and around his teeth. Looking around, he noticed similar looks of relief on everyone else's faces.

"So what else did we do last night Luna?" asked a miraculously recovered Ginny.

"Well, you and Harry disappeared after a while. You both fall down a lot when you're drunk you know," she added conversationally. Harry studiously avoided the looks he was receiving from various Weasleys and blushed as Ginny grinned at him. Desperate to change the subject, he stuttered, " So, um, w-what else happened?"

Listing off on her fingers, Luna intoned," Dean and Parvati made out, then Seamus and Lavender started and they both had some sort of competition, but they all passed out before they decided on a winner,"

Lavender and Parvati blushed and giggled while Dean and Seamus high-fived and grinned," George and Bill had the same sort of competition with Angelina and a very beautiful blonde girl,"

George nodded said 'ah, yes' in remembrance while Bill just motioned towards the dorms and mouthed 'still asleep'. Luna continued," Charlie chatted up Madam Rosmerta and then they both disappeared under the bar counter,"

Charlie grinned then snickered as he saw his mother's despairing face, "Neville declared his undying love for me then fell asleep, oh, and Ron and Hermione almost had sex under a table." Harry choked and Ginny laughed out loud while Ron turned beet red and Hermione sputtered.

"What? No we didn't! Did we?" she looked around desperately but found only laughing friends and adults trying desperately not to laugh as support. Luna tried to soothe them by saying," I said _almost_, you didn't actually have sex." Ron saved their little remaining dignity by asking," Wait, what about the adults? What did they do?"

Suddenly all amusement fled from the snickering teacher's faces and the parents glanced at each other worriedly. Xenophilus looked at his daughter nervously. Luna began regardless.

"Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall played 'I Never', Mr. Weasley and Hagrid discussed the merits of various witch models and the professors with a group of wizards I don't know,"

Mrs. Weasley glared at her husband who had the decency to look ashamed," and, oh wait, where _is_ Hagrid?"

"He's asleep in his cabin," supplied a widely grinning George quickly, "now go on."

"Oh okay, well, Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick took body shots off each other, and then also disappeared under the table…a lot of people seem to have done that, don't they?" she commented casually, while everyone snickered at the mortified teachers. Sprout seemed especially embarrassed, muttering 'I didn't, oh god I _didn't_' to herself while Flitwick squeaked useless protests.

By now most of the teens were helplessly laughing, clutching their sides as opposed to their heads. Luna, as per usual, persevered obliviously.

"Oh, and daddy, you kissed Professor Trelawny!" she smiled blissfully at her father, who's eyes widened comically and turned his head to stare at a similarly shocked Trelawny. This was the last straw for the teens, which were by now gasping for breath, tears streaming down their faces.

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait," giggled Ginny, leaning against a shaking Harry for support, " what about Perce? You didn't tell us what he did!" Everyone turned to stare eagerly at Percy, who was surreptitiously trying to slide under the table. The teachers looked slightly vengeful and he swallowed nervously.

"Me? Well I-I didn't do, um, anything! R-right, Luna?" he asked desperately. She was deaf to his terror.

"Well, I didn't know if you told your family yet or not, so I didn't say anything," she explained as if to a three-year-old.

"Tell us what?" said Ron slightly sharply, staring at a slowly whitening Percy.

Percy was whispering desperately to himself, "Oh god, oh god, oh god, what did I do, what an god's green earth did I do?" Luna smiled at the family, as if bestowing a gift beyond measure.

"Percy snogged Ernie Macmillan!" There was a moment's silence, so Luna added in supplication, "Percy kissed a boy!" When there was still no sound, she added slowly," He's a homosexual."

Percy himself was a stock still, eyes frantically searching for an escape.

Suddenly, George yelled, " I _knew_ it! Pay up Bill!" and soon the entire family was exchanging galleons, Harry and Hermione included. Mr. Weasley looked distinctly disgruntled as he handed a smugly smiling Mrs. Weasley five galleons.

"Never bet against his mother dear," she crowed. Percy was white, staring in confusion at the scene he most certainly did not expect. Noticing his consternation, Ginny explained soothingly," Really Percy, we're not thick. I mean, it's kind of common knowledge by now that Penelope Clearwater is a lesbian."

Percy just sat there, a look of relief finally seeping into his features.

"So, you're all okay with it? Truly?" George laughed.

"Okay with it? I've made fifteen galleons already! And I still haven't got my dues from Angelina, Oliver Wood and Lee!" Slightly more sensitively, Mrs. Weasley added, " Of course we are darling. It was kind of obvious anyway."

Luna was smiling brightly at the happiness she had caused. The teachers seemed to be exchanging their own bets surreptitiously, along with the rest of the teens. Finally, Mr. Weasley called order to the group.

"Well, I think we should be going soon. Are we all packed?" The group answered in the affirmative; no one had much to bring anyway.

"So what's the plan Mrs. Weasley?" asked Hermione. Harry knew she was wondering when she would get to go to Australia to retrieve her parents.

"Okay kids, listen up. This is how it's going to happen; we are all going to apparate to the Burrow first of all, Ginny will do side-along apparation with us, so that Hermione and Harry can get the clothes that they left behind," Mrs. Weasley was in full military mode, pacing up and down in front of her troops. "Then, we're going to pop over to Grimmauld Place and see what needs to be done and make a list. We will then have lunch and head over to Diagon Alley to get supplies. Any questions?"

Hermione timidly put up her hand and said hesitantly," Um, well, you see, I was planning, um, hoping to y'know, fetch my parents, er, today?" she finished unsurely.

Mrs. Weasley looked mortified. "Of course dear! How could I forget? Oh, we'll just reschedule then, let's see…" Hermione looked at Ron helplessly and he intervened.

"Mum, I think it should just be the three of us. Imagine what it would be like for them if this big group of strangers just randomly appeared on their doorstep." Hermione squeezed his hand gratefully. However, Professor McGonagall interrupted.

"Absolutely not! You'll be mobbed if it's just the three of you with no protection! Harry's already stalked wherever he goes by reporters, and that's only in Hogsmeade! I don't care to think what'll happen if he turns up in Sydney, of all places. We don't know anyone trustworthy, at least in London you know people." Harry began protesting, but was surprised when Hermione held up her hand.

"She has a point Harry." Harry gaped, unable to believe her." You mean, you don't want me to come?" He tried to hide how much that stung. Hermione's eyes widened.

"No, of course I do Harry! It's just; I think you should lay low for a while. Ron and I aren't as, well, famous as you and we won't be as hassled by reporters." Harry tried to protest but she carried on." Most people won't even recognize us without you beside us. Remember when Fenrir caught us?"

Everyone turned to look at them sharply, "What?" but she ignored them.

"He didn't realize who Ron and I were till he saw your scar and put two and two together." As much as Harry loathed it, he knew she had a point.

"Sorry mate," supplied Ron, looking horribly guilty but siding with Hermione. Harry swallowed his anger and resentment.

"Fine. Sure. I can do up the house while you're gone_._"_ Fun, fun, fun_, he thought bitterly.

"We'll only be a couple of days Harry," Hermione said desperately, trying to lessen her guilt.

"I said it's fine, okay?" Harry wanted nothing more than for her to just drop it. She exchanged a worried glance with Ron, but left it alone. Before an awkward silence could settle, Ginny said brightly," Well, lets be off then!"

So with much hugs and handshakes and promises of letters, the group trooped outside and set off down the gravel driveway to the gate adorned with winged boars. Harry took one last look at the castle that held so many memories for him before it disappeared behind the trees. Somehow, he didn't feel a sense of loss. It was almost as if he knew he'd be back, and soon. His life had pretty much revolved around the castle so far, and it wasn't ending here. So he smiled, took Ginny's hand, and marched on with the chatting group he called his family.

_________________________________________________

A couple of hours later and Harry was standing dumbfounded outside 12 Grimmauld Place. His only companions were Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, the rest having remained at the Burrow and Ron and Hermione having left for Australia. Their goodbye had been teary but Harry had been a good enough friend to realize that they would appreciate this alone time, and he had been only minimally bitter.

Now however, he wished he was anywhere but his inherited home. The second he had apparated with Ginny in tow, followed by Mrs. Weasley, a huge crowd of people had converged on them.

Not all of them were reporters; some were just random wizards and witches, and all seemed to be waving a piece of paper around. One witch barged forward and the group grew quiet to hear what she had to say.

""Harry, why didn't you tell someone? We can help, we _understand_!" she cried, holding out her hands beseechingly. Harry stared at her, confused.

"What are you talking about?" When the crowd's noise level once again rose several decibels, he held up his hand's for silence. Everyone stared at him expectantly.

"Now, I have _no _idea how you found out where I live, or what gave you the _gall_ to hang around there and hassle me, but would someone please explain what this is all about so you can all leave me alone?"

A wizard wearing deep red robes stepped forward, holding the piece of paper he had seen most people waving about. Now that it was closer, he realized it was a Daily Prophet.

"Harry, haven't you seen today's paper?" When he shook his head, the wizard handed him the Prophet wordlessly. Harry warily looked at the front page. The headline blared; 'Savior Smashed at Broomsticks Bash' and underneath lay a blown up picture of Harry sprawled on the cobbled pavement, Ginny at his side, and both of them quite obviously pissed out of their skulls. An incriminating almost-empty bottle of firewhisky was loosely held in Harry's hand.

"At least we have our clothes on," murmured Ginny in his ear. Harry suppressed a grin and began reading the accompanying article.

'_Following a violent outburst towards a couple of unsuspecting civilians in the streets of Hogsmeade yesterday, Harry Potter, troubled teenage hero and heartthrob, was seen in the arms of red-haired harlotte, Ginny Weasley, younger sister of Harry's best friend Ron Weasley. Previously believed to be in a relationship with said best friend Ron Weasley and other best friend, muggle-born Hermione Granger, Harry appeared to have been seduced by the well-known Gryffindor vixen. With a long history of past conquests, Ginny seems to have set her sights higher and, unfortunately, has reached her goal. Mr. Potter is smitten, and was seen feeding the girl chocolates outside Honeydukes sweet store, quite plainly under the gold-digger's spell. No news yet on how Ron and Hermione have taken this latest emotional blow._

_As if that weren't enough, it appears as if Harry is under severe emotional stress, and was spotted drowning his sorrows in the Three Broomsticks at a party held there late last night, after disappearing into one of the Broomstick's comfy rooms with said vixen hours beforehand. Ginny seemed oblivious to Harry's obvious emotional torture._

_No doubt he is suffering after his many tragic losses and terrifying ordeal. Some say he should get professional help to support him through these trying times. All I know is; we're here to help Harry. You are not alone._

Harry was stunned for a second, before he threw the paper to the ground. "Bullshit." he muttered, furious, before once again calling for silence.

"Okay, let me get this straight once and for all." He stared down the few people still shouting questions and advice. "Firstly, and I have already said this, I am not and never have been in a relationship with either Ron or Hermione. Our friendship is merely that; a friendship.

Secondly, Ginny is _not_ some gold-digger. She is my girlfriend and I love her." Harry heard a quite, stifled gasp and felt Ginny squeeze his hand tightly. It wasn't quite the way he had planned telling her, but whatever. They'd 'talk' once he got rid of the crowd.

"And thirdly, I am not under any emotional stress and I do _not_ need professional help. I did not violently attack 'unsuspecting civilians', and I was not 'drowning my sorrows' at the party. Is it such a crime for me to want to celebrate the downfall of Voldemort with my friends?" he finished, speaking louder over the collective shudder the name created.

"Now, if you have any questions I will gladly answer them, but when you are finished I must ask that you kindly leave me alone." Immediately, shouts bombarded him from all sides.

"The first step to solving a problem is admitting there is one Harry, do you think you might be denying any emotional trauma to appear the hero everyone expects?"

"Do you know who Ginny's past boyfriends are, and what would you like to say to them now?"

"Ginny, is it true that Harry has a hippogriff tattooed on his chest?"

"And that your brother-" Harry cut them off as Ginny desperately tried not to laugh.

"I meant _reasonable_ questions! Now, if you would please go home and leave us be!" Though there was much grumbling, the crowd dispersed relatively quickly.

Mrs. Weasley turned to the snickering pair.

"Well, that was unexpected." Harry nodded. "I should have known they wouldn't leave me alone," he turned to Ginny," well, looks like my precautions were useless. You're in the limelight whether you like it or not now."

"Meh," she replied carelessly," it could be worse."

"How could it be worse?" He asked incredulously. She smiled.

"I could be a gold-digger out for your fame and money, with a long history of past conquests, don't you know." Harry laughed.

"Well, I'm not denying you're a vixen…" she smacked his arm lightly. Mrs. Weasley picked up the discarded paper and began reading it while the three of them walked inside the house.

"We'll have to set up another Fidelius Charm," sighed Mrs. Weasley. Harry baulked.

"No way! I don't want to spend the rest of my life hiding!" Mrs. Weasley stared at him," But Harry dear, the press-"

"No." he repeated firmly," They'll learn to leave me alone, and my friends and family." Mrs. Weasley smiled, but Harry could see she wasn't done with the subject. However, for now she let it slide and the trio made their way into the gloomy house.

Harry let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He had been worried that Voldemort or his Death Eaters might have left the house in total disrepair after they had accidentally shown it to Yaxley, but it seems all they left was empty bottles and old newspapers. Before he could follow Mrs. Weasley up the stairs, he felt a hand tug him back.

"So, since when am I your girlfriend?" murmured a soft voice in his ear. Harry smiled and turned around to look at, in his opinion, the most beautiful face in the world.

" Since now?" he queried, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Ginny smiled back, but then turned more serious.

"And since when do you love me?" Harry looked her straight in the eye, vivid green meeting warm brown.

"Since you kissed me after the Quidditch match." Ginny beamed at him, and he smiled widely back, the happiness infectious.

"And they lived happily ever after," muttered Ginny, only half-sarcastically, as they leaned in towards each other and kissed softly in the dim, dusty hallway.

The moment was spoiled by a loud sniff. Looking up in surprise, Harry and Ginny saw Mrs. Weasley leaning over the banister, her hand covering her mouth, eyes watering happily.

Noticing them noticing her, her eyes widened and she jumped away from the banister.

"Oh, sorry dearies, I was just, um," she stumbled over excuses, the smile never quite leaving her face, before throwing her arms in the air and crying," Oh, screw it!" and running down the stairs and embracing Harry in a huge, motherly hug.

Harry patted her awkwardly on the back, not really sure how to behave in this sort of situation. Ginny laughed and chided, " Let him breath mum!"

"Oh, I'm sorry Harry dear," she fussed, letting go of him and smoothing out his crinkled t-shirt.

Still feeling slightly awkward, Harry looked at Ginny beseechingly. Taking the hint, she chirped," Well, why don't we check out the rest of the house and decide what we're gonna do with it, hmm?"

Mrs. Weasley was successfully distracted from her little bubble of motherly happiness, and began listing off the names of cleaning potions, furniture stores, paint colors…

Harry and Ginny followed her up the stairs, only half-listening and holding hands. Suddenly, Harry didn't mind Ron and Hermione being gone.

**A/N: I know, it's been ages, so I wrote an extra long chapter-10 pages! Mushyness galore too! I was going to end it just at the 'happily ever after' bit, but I then I decided I like writing this story too much to end it now. Also, I havent even begun to cover Harry's aurorhood (?) or anything. So, you're stuck with me for another while!**

**And yes, I just made Percy gay. (insert evil laugh here)**

**Review my lovelies!! Review and I shall send you Harry, complete with handcuffs and whip! (body chocolate optional)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: It's not mine, okay?! (runs away and cries in the corner)**

After realizing that there was actually no edible substance in Grimmauld Place, Harry, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley decided to have lunch in the Leaky Cauldron. While the food was delicious, the three soon found that the pub's clientele was a bit less enjoyable.

Deciding to floo into the pub, Harry reflected, wasn't the best idea in the world. In that, it drew attention to whoever arrived. As such the second Harry, coughing and dizzy, emerged from the grate he was mobbed by admirers trying to get a glimpse of, or even just touch 'the Savior'.

Sighing, Harry smiled and nodded to them, reminding himself that they weren't rabid reporters or gossip mongerers. They were 'merely people wishing to express their gratitude towards him, and they do not deserve any rough treatment' to quote Hermione's stern lecture about 'behaving politely in public'.

So, still smiling, Harry gradually made his way over to a secluded table, Ginny and her mother in tow. Pleasantly surprising Harry, the admirers let him be once Tom the barman arrived to take their order.

Though still the brunt of everyone's stares and the source of everyone's conversation, Harry enjoyed his lunch with the least discomfort.

_I'm getting used to this_, he thought, amused.

While eating, Mrs. Weasley began to discuss color with Harry, who really didn't have a clue.

"So Harry, I was thinking a nice soft apple white color for the kitchen, with pinewood dressers to match the table and a light forest green color for the detailing…" Harry nodded and made noises of agreement while Ginny stifled snickers.

"I don't know what we're going to do about the irremovable tapestries and paintings though. And those ghastly stuffed elf's heads…" Mrs. Weasley shuddered, then brightened.

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we? Are we all finished then?" she queried, looking at their empty plates. "Rightio then, lets get going. Lots to buy!"

As she signaled to Tom that they were ready to pay, Harry searched his pockets and was horrified to find that they were empty, except for his wand and some lint. It made him feel even more horrible when he saw Mrs. Weasley flinch almost unnoticeably at the price Tom stated, and dig out the galleons one by one.

"Can we go to Gringotts first?" he asked, still feeling horribly guilty.

"Of course dear!" she replied, smiling, which only made Harry feel worse.

"We're meeting up with George and Dad soon. They're around somewhere," Ginny told Harry as they made their way out of the pub.

"Sure. Why?" he replied, turning to face her quizzically.

"Well, I think George is reopening Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." She said thoughtfully, absentmindedly twirling a piece of hair round her finger.

Harry was surprised. He didn't think George would reopen the joke shop without Fred there too… _Perhaps it's a good thing_, he thought to himself, _perhaps it'll help him move on. _

He broke out of his thoughts as Mrs. Weasley tapped her wand three times on the brick three up and two across, and the wall began melting back.

As they stepped through the newly created doorway, Harry gaped at the sight before him. Diagon Alley was completely packed and full of life. It bore no resemblance to the pitiful, empty street that it was when he was last there. Witches and wizards thronged the streets and shops were once again a hive of activity.

Elated, he grabbed Ginny's hand and they wound their way through the crowd. Mrs. Weasley stopped to talk to someone she knew and waved them off. People stopped in their tracks to watch them pass, some shouted their greetings and others whispered amongst themselves. There seemed to be an air of speculation regarding Ginny, and those watching the couple considered her thoughtfully.

Ginny laughed and tugged at Harry's hand, pointing at a shop's window. Harry turned and followed the direction of her gaze, and grinned ruefully. Gracing the shop window was a large, blown up illustration of Harry; depicting him effortlessly lying back on a speeding broomstick and grinning lazily at the crowds.

The artist had been more than generous when drawing Harry's physique. His muscles strained against his fitted, handsome robes and his chiseled jaw line was reminiscent of one of Gilderoy Lockhart's commissioned portraits.

Ginny snorted when several evil-looking dragons appeared in the picture and Super-Harry sent them running with one look and a point of his finger. The real Harry looked up to see the name of the shop, and it read in bright lit-up letters shaped like lightning bolts 'Official Harry Potter Fanbase'.

"They've turned me into some sort of comic book hero!" Harry cried, not sure whether to be incredibly amused or exasperatedly disgusted.

"Literally," agreed Ginny, motioning further inside the shop. Harry's eyebrows shot through his hairline. Inside was a cornucopia of merchandise; action figures, posters, comic books, badges, clothes…all with one thing in common. Harry.

Warily, Harry stepped inside the shop led by a highly amused Ginny. The shop was packed full of people, ranging from tiny babies to elderly warlocks. Nobody seemed to notice Harry standing in the entrance, as most of the people inside the shop were dressed exactly like him, scars and all.

They made their way through the shop, staring at all the merchandise bearing Harry's name or face. They couldn't even see the counter, much less who was behind it, with the amount of customers crowding it.

Halfway through the shop was an alcove, slightly less crowded than the rest of the shop. Harry peeked in and was greeted by a selection of merchandise bearing Ron and Hermione's name. Some of the slogans read 'Brains Over Brawn', 'The Golden Trio', and Harry's personal favorite, 'Freckles Are The New Black'

Near the back of the shop was a gaggle of girls, all about fifteen years old. They surrounded a stall that read 'Teen Plus' and were giggling madly at a t–shirt one of them was holding up. Sidling closer Harry read the slogan 'Dragon Riders Do It Best' and on the back was a picture of him, flying on the back of a fearsome looking dragon.

Ginny started laughing uncontrollably, and the girls turned around to see the source of commotion. However, when they caught sight of Harry their eyes widened comically and there was a moment's complete silence before;

"OH MY GOD! IT'S HARRY POTTER!!!" Ginny and Harry were running out of the shop just as the other patrons realized what was happening. Ginny was still laughing manically, and Harry couldn't hold back his own laughter as the absurdity of the situation hit him, along with the adrenaline from the thrill of the pursuit.

Crowds parted and stared as Harry and Ginny ran by laughing freely and closely followed by a stampede of Harry Potter look-alikes, led by a group of determined looking fangirls.

Panic and hilarity lending them speed, Harry and Ginny soon saw the marble steps of Gringotts ahead and they shot up them, only to bump straight into Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley and George. Both parties stared at each other for a moment, before a squeal brought them back to the present.

"There he is!!!" Acting on instinct, Harry twirled around, raising his wand and yelled," PROTEGO!" The first wave of the fangirl stampede rebounded off the shield seconds later and the rest of the crowd soon realized what was happening, and pressed in at all sides against the invisible barrier.

Harry and Ginny had their hands on their knees and were panting heavily but were still overcome with laughter. In between giggles and pants for breath, Harry managed to say, "Help…. us!"

The previously stock-still and staring Weasley trio snapped into action, or at least tried to. They weren't really sure what to do and merely looked around the bubble created by the shield and shrugged helplessly. The group was completely surrounded by screaming, pushing, shouting fangirls and fanboys.

Eventually, Harry caught his breath and straightened up, giving Ginny a helping hand up too. He glanced around and saw that the doors to the bank were open. So, moving the bubble shield with him, he began to edge slowly over to the entrance, the rest of the group staying close by him so as to remain in the shield.

Upon reaching the entrance the two aurors standing there, who had obviously been trying to find the source of the commotion, glared at the group, saw who was part of the group and comprehension dawned on their faces. They began pushing back the noisy crowd with cries of 'Protego!' and eventually the masses were being kept behind an invisible wall at the foot of the steps.

Harry let his own shield dissipate and he caught Ginny's eye. The two promptly began laughing again and clutched each other for support. George was the first to speak.

"What the bloody hell was _that_ all about?!" he cried, staring in disbelief at the still struggling masses.

"Official… Harry…Potter…. fanclub!!" managed Ginny, in between peals of laughter. The two aurors walked over to the group and took in the two helpless teens with raised eyebrows. Collecting himself slightly, Harry smiled at them gratuitously.

"Thank you! I never expected _that_ to happen." One of the aurors smiled, he was middle-aged, tall and dark haired, with a long scar running down his cheek.

"It's quite alright Mr. Potter. I expect you're more used to being chased by hordes of murderous Death Eaters rather than hordes of delirious fans." Harry grinned and the other auror, a young woman with long brown hair and several piercings, stifled a laugh. As the older auror seemingly recognized Mr. Weasley and they began chatting, she sidled up to Harry and raised a studded eyebrow.

"I hear you're joining the department this September. You sure you're up to it?" she teased, grinning wickedly. She had very sultry voice and Harry found himself grinning back at her.

"Well, if this is the sort of stuff I'd have to deal with," he said, gesturing to the slowly dispersing crowd," I don't think I could possibly cope." The auror laughed and stuck out her hand.

"Selene Trent, auror and savior's savior, how do you do?" she giggled in a mock posh voice. Harry shook her hand and replied," Harry Potter, unemployed and fangirl target, charmed." Laughing, he turned to Ginny and was about to introduce her when she stepped forward and stuck out her hand, saying," Ginny Weasley, Gryffindor chaser and savior's _girlfriend_, delighted to make your acquaintance." All the while a dangerous looking smile was on her face and her eyes glinted angrily.

Selene smiled back, albeit slightly frostily, and shook her hand. Before Harry could say anything, Mrs. Weasley popped up and suggested they go inside. Harry agreed readily; Ginny was still wearing her dangerous smile.

Leaving the aurors at the door, they stepped inside the magnificent wooden doors of Gringotts. Harry had been expecting a frosty welcome, and he wasn't disappointed. It wasn't surprising though, considering the last time he had been here, he had broken in, stolen from a valuable client and freed the guardian dragon that had resided in the bowels of the vaults.

On the way to his vault however, the goblin's iciness was nothing compared to Ginny's. She completely ignored him throughout the cart ride. Harry was getting frostbite from the cold shoulder he was receiving, and he didn't even know why he was receiving it.

After a particularly sharp bend, which resulted in the passengers of the cart being thrown against one another, Harry tried to break the tense silence.

"So, um, where do you want to go shopping?" Ginny shot him a glare.

"Don't try and pretend I'm not mad at you!"

"But why are you mad at me?" he asked desperately. Ginny gave him a despairing look.

"You were flirting with that auror, _Selene_." She said, pronouncing the name as if it were a swearword. Harry stared at her.

"No, I wasn't!" Ginny snorted and Harry looked around for support but found none. George was snickering quietly and Mr. And Mrs. Weasley were studiously looking the other way. The cramped condition of the cart did nothing to help Harry's awkward situation.

"Ginny, I swear, I would never 'flirt' with another girl! You've seen me around girls, you know I don't even know _how_ to flirt!" That was it for George, and he burst out laughing. Harry was, of course, bright red but he powered on.

"Ginny?" She turned to face him slowly. She looked at him for a moment, her face inscrutable. To Harry, it seemed a year passed until finally…

"Okay. I believe you." Harry could feel the look of relief spread across his face and he let out a puff of air. Suddenly, Ginny grinned.

"You are _so_ whipped." George once again collapsed with laughter, and Harry could see Mrs. Weasley's shoulder's shaking.

Before Harry could come up with a witty reply, the cart came to an abrupt halt and the five went lurching forward. The goblin stood up and walked over to the vault, sourly putting out his hand for Harry's key. Untangling himself from the Weasley pile, Harry staggered out of the cart and rummaged in his pocket. Producing the key, he handed it to the goblin triumphantly.

The goblin opened the vault, muttering darkly all the while. Harry quickly grabbed a few handfuls of galleons, sickles and knuts. He could sense the Weasley's curious gazes on his back and he quickly shut the large iron door, embarrassed by his riches. However, before the door closed with a clang, he noticed that the pile seemed considerably larger than it had previously been.

Brushing this thought aside, Harry jumped back into the cart, his moneybag clinking traitorously at his side. On the journey back to the surface, both George and the Weasley parents stopped at their respective vaults. Harry decided not to pry, and turned to Ginny.

"So, where _would_ you like to shop?" he asked grinning.

"Well, I was thinking we could go to Eeylop's Owl Emporium." She replied, her eyes trained on his searchingly. Harry was confused.

"Why? Do you want to get an owl?"

"No," she replied softly," I thought you might want one." Harry's guts wrenched sharply. _Hedwig…_

"Yeah," he choked, trying to sound passive," sure. Good idea." Ginny's soft hazel eyes once again searched his and she squeezed his hand.

The return trip was silent, each person apparently lost in their own thoughts.

**A/N: Hello my darlings! BIG shout out to my good friend RunninWithTheWolves, without whose offer of (and I quote) 'terrifically good friendly help' the plot bunny would have stayed lost! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, love you forever!**

**REVIEW! (please?) **


End file.
